Take the Leap
by Herperlo.D
Summary: Harry Potter felt that he was just another unremarkable boy despite his Boy-Who-Lived status, or so he thought, when something remarkable happens to him one day. Someone had sent him an invitation to start a courtship. Now, that must certainly be a joke. Right? A slow burn fic. TR/HP. Major AU, fluff.
1. The Day of Death

Hey guys! I know that I haven't been posting much the whole year, but now I finally had some inspiration! Recently, I had my major examinations and I have about... three more to go, so awesome! For this one, updates won't be very consistent because I don't know where my mind would take me, but I sort of got the general outline in my mind already. Hopefully this burst of inspiration will stay with me until I finish. Crossing fingers tightly.

Right! Now that's over, there is something else I want to say. To **BadassNerd** (cool name btw): No, I haven't forgotten you- even though it's been more than a year. I have a few ideas for that side story, but so far nothing concrete so it's going to take a little while longer before I can put up the one you requested. My mind is annoying like that. (I literally rewrote the first paragraph five times before deleting the whole thing)

So, normal **disclaimers**, none of these characters are my own, yada yada yada... Not betaed so all mistakes are mine. This is going to be **slash **(meaning m/m) in case some of you didn't realise and it's a massive AU so beware. I hope you all like it!

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><p><span>Chapter 1<span>

**8 p.m. 31 October 1981, Potter's Cottage**

It was a cool night on the 31st of October 1981. Lily and James Potter were lying on the floor, playing with their son, young Harry Potter who had just turned one that summer. Both parents, lulled into a false sense of security within the 'impenetrable' Fidelius Charm, had left their wands on the coffee table in front of the sofa, just out of reach. It was important to have both hands free to play with their dear Harry, who was delighted at having the full attention of both his parents, clapping happily at both of them, occasionally pointing at one of his toys.

"Maa, b'oom." He wiggled his little fingers adorably in the direction of his favourite mini toy broom. Lily beamed at her son and picked up the toy, making dramatic _fwoosh_ sounds as she glided it up through the air into his grabbing hands. Harry giggled as he waved his hands as high as he could reach, making _fwoosh_ sounds of his own, cutely pouting his lips with eyebrows scrunched up in concentration as he directed the broom along a path towards a destination only he could see. Feeling something, Harry looked away from his flying adventure to the door and back to his parents, confused as to why they didn't seem to notice that they had someone at the door. Pointing with the hand not holding the broom, little Harry asked,

"Daa, door?" Both Lily and James froze and whipped their heads towards the door, scrambling to stand up as they did so. It was too late. The door blasted inwards, sending sprays of sharp wooden splinters everywhere to admit a tall figure dressed in a long black robe and dark boots.

"Lily, take Harry and go! Run! I'll hold him off!"

Lily scooped young Harry up and ran frantically up the stairs to the baby's room. She placed him in his crib, shushing him shakily with soothing words.

"Alright Harry, just look at Mama. Everything is just fine-". There was a loud crash and a soft thump downstairs, cutting off her words. Lily closed her eyes in grief as she quickly activated the previously drawn runes on the crib and chanted rapidly, well aware of the soft footfalls leading closer to the room. Sweat beaded her face as she finished the hasty spell, which drained her magical core. Young Harry cried out as Lily slumped against the crib, barely having enough energy to hold herself upright. He grabbed her fingers with both of his little hands through the bars of the crib, making distressed noises as he felt something _bad_ coming closer and his Mama felt _wrong_. Pulling at her fingers, young Harry looked between the door and his Mama who smiled at him sadly, folding her whole hand around both of his in comfort. She prayed with all her might that the spell worked. It was her last hope. The door to the room was pushed open slowly, its hinges making an ominous creaking sound.

"Well, what do we have here?" A dark voice rumbled. "Pathetic desperation. Not even the boy downstairs was worth much effort. Pitiful excuses for wizards." The man took a step into the room, taking in the mother and her son with dispassionate eyes.

"Not Harry, not Harry, please not Harry!" Lily begged, eyes overflowing with tears as she dragged herself up to shield Harry from _his_ sight. Cold blue eyes swept over her shaking form in disgust and flung her to the wall with the flick of his wand. _He_ stepped before the crib, irritably destroying the protective wards around it as easily as shredding paper.

"So pathetic. And to think that you would be my greatest enemy." _He_ mused, chuckling darkly and raised _his_ wand to young Harry's forehead.

"Not Harry! Please no! Kill me instead! He's just a baby!" Lily begged crawling on the floor towards her son desperately. "Not Harry! Please… have mercy… have mercy." She sobbed, grabbing onto the bottom of _his_ robes weakly.

Young Harry sobbed behind the bars of his crib, not liking the awful, _awful_ feeling so close to him. "Maa! Maa!" He cried out. _Where is Mama?_

"Silence, girl! I am letting you have the opportunity to see your son die." _He _sneered. "Unless you want your son's last memory is to be of your death."

"No! No! Please I'm begging you! Have mercy… have mercy…" Lily tugged on _his_ robes one more time, panic and overwhelming helplessness and fear taking over her senses. She could not think straight, could not move, except to do something, _anything_ to save her son.

The last thing she remembered was an annoyed snarl and a flash of sickly green light and a baby screaming, before… Nothing.

Young Harry burst out in tears when he saw Mama fall still, instinctively knowing that he would never see her again. He cried even harder when he felt that _bad, bad_ person come back, poking his head painfully. A murmur of two words and young Harry's world exploded in a blast of sickly green light. Pain, _pain_. Young Harry could not understand. Everything was so painful. _Mama… Dada… Where is Ma? Da?_ There was a loud, angry- so angry- scream and the _bad, bad _person disappeared. The house rumbled around him and started to shake. He heard a loud crack and felt a sharp pain to his head.

Young Harry knew no more.

**HTHTHTHTHTHT**

Rubeus Hagird, a half man, half giant, walked up the front lawn of the Potter Cottage, shortly after young Harry had fallen unconscious. He ducked under the low doorway and went upstairs to the baby's room. Upon reaching the door, Hagrid had to stop and stare in shock at the destruction in front of him. The whole room had been blown apart, the back wall was completely gone, chunks of it littering the back yard. The floor beyond the crib had collapsed onto the kitchen below, scorch marks stained the carpet black and grey and the once cheery yellow walls were singed and cracked. Hagrid stepped carefully into the room, wary of the weak support under his feet and hurried to the crib where he found young Harry sleeping soundly on a pillow and a pile of black robes on the floor. Hagrid cradled his precious cargo in a big, broad hand and went downstairs again, only to find Sirius Black on the front porch, knuckles white around the rim of his helmet.

"Is it true? Are they really-" Sirius looked away, unable to finish the thought.

"Aye, only found 'arry in his crib. No one else." Hagrid replied solemnly, sadness evident in every word. Sirius' face crumpled, his expression a mix of grief and anger. "I need ta get 'arry 'ere to Dumbledore, to safety. Dumbledore said the muggles would be 'ere soon." Hagrid continued, bringing the precious bundle closer to his chest. Sirius stayed silent, eyes flicked from the baby in Hagird's hands to his helmet.

"Take my bike. I won't need it anymore." He said finally. He cast a last look of longing to the baby, fingers twitching as if wanting to touch and transformed into a great black dog. The large beast bounded down the dimly lit street and disappeared into the night. The helmet was gone before it touched the ground.

Sirens wailed in the distance, spurring Hagrid to get onto the bike while carefully balancing young Harry against the crook of his elbow. At a push of a button, Hagrid left Godric's Hollow through the sky with a loud rumble, young Harry slumbering in his arms peacefully the entire time, his red lightning bolt scar gleaming on his forehead.

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><p>Dun Dun Dun... Who is that bad, bad man? Hmmm...<p>

Things in this universe is a bit different than the original, but the shouting and begging and most of the dialogue is cut and pasted from the book. If you are wondering about the different-form-canon things, for those who had spotted them, they will be explained in the future chapters. Baby!Harry is so adorable! Well, at least in my mind.

I'm planning to edit my old fics a bit for like spelling/grammar/OOC characters. I'll tell you guys when I do. Sucks that now I can't just copy my whole fic onto a new document. I don't remember where my original document is...

Well, I hope you guys found chapter 1 interesting. Don't be afraid to drop a review. I'll try to answer all of them. I've got to run now, sleep awaits me.


	2. Interlude of Pain

Hey guys!

Finally! Chapter 2 is here!

I know it's been forever since I last updated and I'm so so sorry!

Some more Little Harry for everyone to enjoy~ :D

Normal **disclaimers** apply so I own nothing except the plot line.

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><p><strong>10 August 1985, Private Drive, 6pm<strong>

Little Harry never liked going back to The House. The House meant beatings and being shouted at and pain and Little Harry did not like any of those things. The House meant being ignored and being pushed aside and _loneliness. _At least out of The House, the animals on the street would come close enough for him to pet.

Little Harry liked being out of The House, because out of The House meant freedom- no matter how little- and companionship and fun and Little Harry never wanted to go back to _that place_. He wanted to run away, to be free from a place that never wanted him and always torments him. He doesn't like cleaning and he doesn't like getting stung by oil and the way the Scary Lady looks at him like how someone would look at a dying rabid stray- with disgust and fear.

But where else could he go? It was turning cold and Little Harry knew that he would not last outside all by himself. The House had heat and it had a bit of food and somewhere he could sleep without needing to keep one eye open. So with a heavy heart, Little Harry made his way back to The House, carefully avoiding tripping himself on his too-big sneakers and pulled his oversized shirt closer to his body to keep the creeping chill out.

The first thing Little Harry did when he got home was to go straight to the kitchen to make dinner- the Scary Lady had said to do that. She had a hand on a sizzling pan on the stove when she told him to and Little Harry did not want that on his face again, even if the burns had disappeared the next day, because it had _hurt_. Standing on a stool, Little Harry used a spatula to flip the sizzling burger patties and to scoop out the fries from the oil, flinching whenever the oil popped. His arms were shaking with exhaustion by the time he slid the plates of patties and fries onto the dinner table. The Scary Lady immediately shoved a piece of bread into his hands and pushed him back into his room under the stairs. Little Harry had learnt long ago not to ask why he couldn't eat at the dinner table like everyone else. His back still stung in remembrance.

Little Harry sighed sadly on his small, hard cot and savoured his meagre dinner. With a rumbling tummy, he curled under his thin blanket and went to sleep.

The next evening found Little Harry at the same spot as the day before, swinging gently on the swing in the empty playground. Then, Little Harry had a sudden niggling sensation at the back of his head, urging him to leave the playground. It was not to be said that Little Harry was an impulsive child. One must learn not to be to survive in The House with as little pain as possible, but Little Harry somehow knew that this was something that he just_ had to do_. So he made his way out of the playground and walked down the street. However, when walking past the shaded pathway between two houses, Little Harry got the biggest shock of his life.

Sitting in the dark alley was the biggest black dog he had ever seen, with intelligent grey eyes and sharp claws that clacked against the concrete as it slowly walked towards Little Harry. The dog was at Little Harry's shoulder and he knew very well that if it so desired to, Little Harry would be nothing but a bloody smear on the pavement by the time the moon fully rose. The dog- Black, Little Harry mentally named it with not a little hysteria- walked a slow circle around him before coming to a stop in front of his face. From such a close distance, Little Harry could see that the dog was obviously not well cared for. He could see a hint of ribs from beneath the dirty matted fur and the unhealthy redness of the gums as it opened its mouth, revealing two rows of sharp teeth. Little Harry stood absolutely still when Black cracked its jaws open, a long tongue rolling out to lick its snout, its face so near to his that he could see the different mesmerising shades of colour that were blended together in its grey iris. A sniff to his neck, and the dog pause, pulling back and staring at him with something like surprise in his eyes, but Little Harry told himself that he was just seeing thing, then it darted back for another longer one. Then Black immediately snapped upright, gave Little Harry a long, slobbering lick to the face and bounded off into the alley again, disappearing into the darkness, leaving Little Harry standing in the middle of an empty pavement wondering what in the world just happened.

A few weeks passed without a sign of Black and Little Harry was beginning to think that he had dreamt up that strange encounter. Sighing, Little Harry went back to scrubbing the toilet floor with a rough brush, deciding to put all thoughts away so that he could finish this as quickly as possible.

"BOY!" Little Harry jumped in surprise and darted out of the room. The Fat Man gave out more painful punishments than the Scary Lady and Little Harry whimpered at the mere thought of it.

In his mad dash down the stairs, Little Harry tripped over his feet and with growing horror, watched as the stairs rush up to great him. He shut his eyes tightly and prayed fervently that he will stopStopSTOP! When no pain came, Little Harry hesitantly opened his eyes and stared in amazement at the wooden steps hovering an inch from his face. His body was hovering in the air! Little Harry was nearly shaking with excitement. He was floating! This is so cool! Little Harry omphed when he was dropped the rest of the way down, the weird force that kept him up disappeared.

"WHAT WAS THAT YOU FREAK?!" Little Harry scrambled on his hands and knees up the stairs as quickly up the stairs as he could. The Fat Man had never looked this angry before- his face a fierce shade of puce and his jowls quivering in supressed rage- not even when he had accidentally got yellow paint onto his car. "YOU COME BACK HERE!" A large hand grabbed him by the back of his shirt and flung him across the hallway. Little Harry cried out in pain when his back and head impacted the hard wall. With no chance to recover, he was tossed yet again onto his front, his shirt scrunched up under his armpits. There was a familiar clink of metal, then a searing pain across his back. Little Harry screamed when the leather and metal bit sharply into his skin, tearing bloody gashed over the old newly healed ones.

"STOP CRYING YOU LITTLE FREAK!"

_Whip_

"FREAKS LIKE YOU DON'T DESERVE TO CRY!"

_Crack_

"WE TAKE YOU IN AND WHAT DO YOU DO?"

_Snap_

"REPAY US WITH YOUR FREAKINESS!"

_SnapCrack_

"YOU DISGUSTING

_Whip_

WORTHLESS

_Crack_

USELESS

_Snap_

PIECE OF

_Whip_

SHIT!"

_WhipCrack_

"GO AND DIE BECAUSE NOBODY WANTS YOU!"

Vernon Dursley raised his belt again for another hit when the front door of the house slammed open and men and women in police gear poured into the entryway, guns drawn and faces grim.

"Police! We have a warrant!"

The officer in the front held up a piece of paper. A group of officers at the back detached themselves from the main group and moved deeper into the house. Little Harry could faintly hear the screeching of the Scary Lady through the haze of pain.

"Vernon Dursley please put the belt down and step away from the boy."

By then, Vernon Dursley's face had turned into a worrying shade of white, his watery eyes narrowed at the police officers that had invaded his _perfectly normal home_. He opened his mouth to protest when the same officer cut him off.

"Failure to comply would result in forceful measures. So please, put down the belt and step _away_ from the boy." Vernon's hand tightened around the bloody belt and felt an uncontrollable rage coursed through him.

How dare they? HOW DARE THEY? THEY COME INTO HIS PERFECTLY NORMAL HOME TO ARREST HIM FOR TEACHING THE BOY HIS PLACE? THIS IS ALL _THE_ _BOY'S FAULT_.

He raised his belt higher into the air, preparing to strike the boy-the _freak_- again and was tackled to the ground by two burly officers who wrestled him into submission, cuffing his hands behind his back. The previous group of officers came back with a roughened up Petunia Dursley, cuffed up like her husband and a wailing Dudley Dursley.

"Vernon Dursley and Petunia Dursley, you are under arrest for the abuse of Harry James Potter."

The officer said and with a sharp motion, the officers hauled a shrieking Petunia and a bellowing Vernon Dursley out of the house with Dudely following behind them, sobbing loudly, while continuing to read out their rights as they were manhandled into the backseat of the cars up front.

Little Harry vaguely felt a hand on his neck supporting his head and back away from the floor and another gently tapping his cheek.

"Harry? Harry? I need you to listen to me. I am Officer Wright. I need you to stay with me now. They are gone. They can't harm you anymore. You are safe now. You are _safe_. We are going to get you to the hospital…" In pain and frightened out of his wits, Little Harry's body could not take the strain anymore and he final slipped back into the darkness. He heard no more.

"I NEED A MEDIC!"

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><p>I don't know much about arresting procedures so I'm pretty sure that I trashed that bit right there.<p>

I know, poor Harry right? Don't worry it will turn out OK for him.

Vernon Dursley is a big pile of horse shit. I felt so angry writing him.

Any comments or burning questions just let me know! Any reviews are appreciated.


	3. Complications and Reticence

Hello my dear readers!

I finally completed another chapter! Woohoo!

Haha it took me so long to motivate myself to finish this one, but your reviews helped me tons. So thank you for your kind words!

_Flashbacks_

Thoughts

"Speech"

Well, I won't keep you guys for too long, normal **disclaimers** apply and all mistakes are mine. So if you spot any, just pop me a message.

CW description of a panic attack

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><p><em>Pathetic… Pitiful<em>

_A sneer._

_Not Harry, not Harry… Please, please, please_

_Crying._

Please don't cry. Why are you crying?

_Blue eyes flash over red._

_So pathetic_

Fear. Panic

_Not Harry! Please no! Kill me instead! Have mercy…_

Stop! Please, please stop crying!

_A flash of greengreengreen_

Nonononono! Wake up! Wake up! Pleasepleasepleasewakeup

_Screaming. _ComebackcomebackCOMEBACK!

_A flash of green. _wrongWrongWRONG.

_Please._

Harry shot up in bed, gasping for breath, sweating and shivering. His hands clenched tightly around an unfamiliar blanket. Black spots swam in front of his eyes and he could barely move without his back screaming in pain.

_Pathetic. _His mind whispered. Harry shook his head wildly; ignoring the sharp bolt of pain that stabbed his back. _No I'm not! I'm not pathetic! _He cried angrily, but he knew that he was not completely certain about that. The voice in his head chuckled and fell silent.

Harry looked around the strange room. It was illuminated with long rods emitting warm yellow lights that hurt his eyes when he stared at it for too long. The bed was covered with white starchy sheets and a light blue blanket, two large blue pillows supporting his head. There was a chair on the right of the bed and a couch against the wall behind that, beside the door. On his left was a large window covered by sheer white curtains, allowing sunlight to further illuminate the room. Surrounding the head of the bed were a few machines that looked absolutely foreign to Harry. One of them looked like the telly the Dursleys had, but instead of moving pictures, it showed two sets of changing numbers and two moving lines and it lets out periodic beeps. Harry looked at his hands and fiddled with the clip on his finger, it was chunky and light grey in colour and it looked vaguely familiar- maybe he had caught a glimpse of it on the telly while dusting the dinning room when the Scary Lady was watching her weird shows. Harry shrugged and left it, wincing at the twinge of pain from his back. Surprised, Harry gingerly stretched his arms up and silently marvelled at the lack of pain he usually felt after one of the _sessions_.

Looking down, Harry tugged the blanket up to see that someone had dressed him in a loose, paper-like light blue gown that hung on his thin frame like a shirt on a drying rack. Parts of his hands and arms were covered in clean, white bandages and clean gauze patches. Harry remembered cutting himself on a rusty nail while repainting the fence just yesterday and accidentally clipping his fingers on the old hinge of the garden shed. They had hurt, but the Scary Lady told him to stop whining and get back to work, or else.

The sound of the door opening shook him out of his thoughts. A police officer entered the room and Harry panicked, scooting backwards quickly, knocking the pillows to the floor. The Scary Lady and Fat Man had always made it clear that the police were not to be trusted and even a hint of association with them would earn him a vicious punishment.

He had it tried once last year. He never tried it again.

Harry's eyes darted to the window. If he ran fast enough maybe he could… Suddenly, a hand touched his arm and Harry gave a silent shriek and jumped for it. A shout of surprise and powerful hands grabbed his shoulders and pinned him onto the bed, mindful of his injured back, but Harry didn't even think about his back and thrashed under the strong grip, panicking and mouthing _Nonono _over and over again.

"Hey! Hey! Calm down, kid. I'm not here to hurt you. C'mon, you're pulling at your stitches. Calm down! You're hurting yourself, kid!" The policeman tried helplessly, face twisting with worry as he struggled to hold down Harry's thrashing limbs.

Harry couldn't breathe, his breaths coming out in short bursts as he struggled against the officer. Black was encroaching into his vision from the corners, but Harry knew that above all else, he must get away from the police before the Fat Man saw him. His heart thumped loudly in his chest and he felt as though his ribs would explode from the amount of pressure pressing against them. It was so strange, Harry thought, his lungs are stuffed so full of air to the point of bursting, but he can't seem to get any air. He pushed and clawed feebly with trembling hands against the man's forearms, trying to get away from the _Police._ He could already feel the phantom bite of metal against his skin, tearing into vulnerable flesh and drowning him in an ocean of crippling pain and agony. Harry shook even harder, mouth gaping open in a soundless scream of blind panic and absolute fear.

A vague prick on his back and Harry sunk into blissful darkness.

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><p>Officer Wright straightened from his tired slouch, stretching his back and smiling when his spine popped with a satisfying crack. He shuffled out of his office, past the bullpens to the tiny kitchen where half of the police force had converged late into the night, nursing their own cup of divine blessing, namely any drink that had high amounts of caffeine in them. Wright poured the black lukewarm sludge from the common coffee pot into his own mug and sat down heavily at the only table in the room. He took a large gulp, made a face and added a splash of milk before downing the rest. Sighing loudly, Wright ran his hands through his dark locks, tugging a few to let the pain jolt him awake and rubbed his face roughly.<p>

Someone nudged his side with an elbow, laughter evident in her voice, "Not getting enough sleep are we?"

Wright made a face in response and thumped his head against the table with a groan. "I don't think he even left the office last night. He still has that coffee stain on his trousers." A second voice responded, deep and full of amusement, nudging his on his other side and plucked his empty mug from the table to replace it with a full one. Lord, bless his soul, he thought. Wright only raised his head high enough to take a sip before returning it to its place on the table top. "You got the Dursley case didn't you?" Wright gave a short groan of affirmation.

The Officer winced in sympathy and patted his shoulder gently. "Is it that bad?"

Wright flopped back on his seat, the metal creaking under his weight and rubbed his eyes tiredly, dark eye bags clearly evident beneath exhausted hazel eyes. "It's worse. So, so much more worse. Christ Julie, you didn't see it when we got there. The kid was just lying there in a pool of his own blood, completely silent– not even a fucking peep. His bloody Uncle was whipping him with the _buckle_ of his belt. Fucking hell, the kid's back was so shredded, the doctors had to stitch some of it up– he's got _fourteen_ fucking stitches. Gods, I need a drink." Wright sighed again and gulped down another mouthful of caffeine sludge, viciously tamping down on his anger.

Julie grimaced into her own cup. Scum like that really pissed her off. If she ever got her hands on that Uncle… "Where is the Uncle anyway?"

Wright shrugged and looked at Eric who thought for a bit, mentally pulling up the duty roster. "I think Ross was on cell duty that day. I remembered him saying something about putting a fat lard in one of the cells in the basement. It's been about a week, but I think that he's still there." Eric paused and scratched his cheek, "I also heard from Jones and Fisher that he's a complete lunatic- raving everyday about his nephew being a freak and deserving what he got, something about floating in mid air? I don't remember, but he sounds absolutely nutters."

Wright grimaced. "He is definitely nutters. No sane person would ever treat their own family like that. Dad would have sawed off his own leg before even thinking about mistreating any of my cousins. I mean, it's been twenty years and he still spoils them like they're five."

Eric laughed and topped up Wright's coffee cup again. "Julie, you should've seen last Christmas. His cousins had to call for an extra cab just to fit all the gifts they got from Wright's pa. It was–" Eric was cut off by a ring and Wright fished out his phone from his pocket, answering it with a curt greeting. Julie and Eric watched as their friend's face turned darker and darker, eyebrows furrowing and mouth turned down in a stern frown. The call didn't last for long and Wright ended it with a snap and a low curse, shoving it back into his pocket.

"I have to go. There's something wrong with the kid." He swept out without another word, tossing on his coat and grabbing his keys before jumping into his cruiser and leaving with a squeal of tires. Julie and Eric exchanged a glace and ran out of the station behind Wright- they had a bad feeling about this.

Julie and Eric had just entered the reception area of the small, local hospital when they heard Wright shouting furiously,

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN HE'S GONE?"

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><p>Wooooo! Another cliffhanger hahaha. *dodging rotten tomatoes*<p>

I have exams coming up soon so the next update would probably be at the end of the year, but I'll try to get one up if I can, maybe pop a sentence or two once in a while.

I hope that you've enjoyed this one. Feel free to tell me your thoughts through reviews or PM, I don't mind either.

Useless flames will be returned to the depths of Mordor where they belong.

I'll see you guys soon! Love you all!


	4. Continuations and a Start

Woah! I finally finished another chapter.

An update at the end of the year just like I promised.

My exams went well (thank goodness) I passed everything! I'm so happy. Now I have a bit more time on my hands to plan out what I'm gonna write, so hopefully that will equate to more chapter outlines being drawn out... hopefully.

It took me quite a while to get this chapter out. I had many ideas on how this was suppose to go, but I ended up scrapping most of them. Most of the time, it was just me staring at a blank doc, or being distracted by other fics and youtube. Hahaha

I hope that you all will enjoy reading this chapter more than I did writing it. It's not betaed so all mistakes are mine.

Normal **disclaimers **apply.

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><p>Harry laid down on the hospital bed, eyes glued to the clock on the wall across him, keeping track of the minutes as the seconds ticked by. The room was dark, all the lights had been switched off an hour ago and only the waning moon, hung heavy and bright, high in the clear night sky outside the window, illuminated it. The clock struck eleven ten on the dot. Harry mentally started the countdown and shut his eyes, pretending to sleep. The door quietly opened, a nurse popped his head into the room, giving everything a quick sweep before leaving, the door closing just as quietly behind him. Harry's eyes snapped open and he slid down the bed slowly, going over to the couch where he quickly unzipped the cushion casing and took out two sets of shirts and shorts. He changed into one of them and stuffed the second set into a small bag he had hid under his pillow.<p>

He felt vaguely guilty for stealing the clothes and the bag, but the feeling was quickly snuffed out. He _had_ the do this. The tug in his chest was growing stronger. He had already spent too much time here as it is, talking to the _police of all people_ and others he had been specifically told not to. The Fat Man should be reaching here soon and only god knew what he would do to him once he found out. Harry shuddered at thought and his movements became hastier. There was a limited amount of time before the shift change and someone else checks up on him- he had to be out by then. Harry rummaged through the back of the mattress, stuffing the dried fruits and crackers he had stolen from the break room in with the clothes. The hospital blanket went in as well, along with the pillowcases. Feet shoved into ill-fitting shoes he kept outside on the ledge hidden by the curtains, Harry stretched on his tiptoes to turn the doorknob as noiselessly as he could, biting his bottom lip nervously.

The hallway was empty, soft sounds echoing from the break room and the lifts, quiet dings muffling the squeak of his shoes as he crept down the corridor, body enclosed by the shadows of the walls. He dodged past the doors and cautiously scooted around Mr Owen in room B3.11- he was a very light sleeper and always made a racket every time he was woken up. Harry squinted down the hallway occasionally, pausing every few steps to strain his ears for any approaching hospital staff. Harry's hands were sweating as he slunk to the door to the right at the very end of the corridor, a softly lit green sign flickering above it denoting the door as an emergency staircase exit. Harry knew from constant observation that the alarm on the door was always off and the staircase was unmonitored- the nurse in charge of the afternoons of the floor likes to take a smoke in the stairwell during her breaks.

Harry reached up again and pressed the heavy lever down with a grunt, cracking the door open and slipping into the dim stairwell, closing it silently behind him. The stairwell was lit a dim, ominous red by the old flickering bulb dangling from the ceiling. The hospital was small and not as well funded as hospitals in the other small towns closer to the city, so all money donated were channelled into machinery and improving the few class A wards on the other side of the hospital. Management never bothered to maintain the stairwell since no one ever used it.

Harry ran-hopped down the stairs, one hand on the dusty rails and the other fisted in his bag strap. His eyebrows pinched in concentration as he tried not to trip down the stairs on his over-sized shoes. Harry reached the landing of the first floor with little fanfare, only accompanied by the sound of his panting echoing around him. Breathing deeply, Harry dusted off his dirty hands on his shorts as well as he could and eased the stairwell door open slightly, peaking into the lobby of the hospital. The brightly lit lobby was a large contrast to the dim stairwell and Harry had to blink black spots out of his eyes. The door was placed in the back left corner of the lobby beside the lifts directly behind the reception counter, the other side of the lifts held a set of double doors that led to the ER and several testing rooms. The lobby was a long rectangular area with the circular wrap-around counter placed right in the centre of the room, neatly dividing the space where four rows of chairs were arranged facing each other- the waiting area- and the wide space where patients and hospital staff with various types of medical equipment could wait for the slow, old lifts to reach the first floor of the hospital.

Harry crept over to the receptionist, stretching his body to look over the counter. He found the man facing away from him, slowly filling up forms and clicking away at the computer. The man had deep bags under his eyes and glanced frequently at the clock on the table then at the front doors, yawning tiredly. His shoes were tapping out a rhythm on the linoleum floor. _Tap-taptap-tap_ they went. He fiddled with his pen, flipping it and twisting it between nimble fingers, bringing it up to nibble the cap.

The man was the only thing separating him from his freedom.

Harry wanted him to leave.

The tell-tale squeak of the roller chair had Harry diving down again, squatting as low as possible to avoid being seen. There was a rustle of clothing and a clatter of stationary, papers being shuffled together and the man stretch with a sigh. He smoothed out his scrubs and gathered his things, grabbing his coat and shuffled out of the circular counter, pulling out his phone.

"Hey Al, I'm gonna head home early. I think that my all-nighters are catching up with me. I can't seem to focus on anything right now." The man paused, rubbing his temples. "Yeah, thanks so much. I'll make it up to you when I come back 'kay?" The person on the other side said something again and the man sighed. "Yeah, yeah. I promise. See ya on Tuesday. Bye." He slipped his phone back into his scrubs and tugged on his coat as he walked past the empty chairs to the front door. (The town was small enough that late-night visitors were rare)

The front doors had just closed behind the man when one of the elevators dinged behind him. Harry was up and dashing out of the doors before the elevator doors fully slid open.

Turning right down the street, Harry leaned against the brick wall, lungs and legs burning. Hands on his knees, Harry breathed deeply, trying to settle his wildly beating heart. There was another tug in his chest- this one harder than any before it. It left Harry breathless. There was a feeling-thought that resonated in his head.

_Go, you have to go. Now._

Harry gasped and stumbled forward, surprised and startled, but he hitched his bag higher up his back and double-knotted his laces. Wiping away his sweat, Harry jogged slowly down the street, careful to stick to the areas unlit by the street lamps to remain as unnoticed as possible, following the tug in his chest into the faceless night.

* * *

><p>Harry ran and ran, following the tugging in his chest.<p>

It changed constantly, one minute pulling him to the left, then to the right, then straight on for a full half hour, down streets, through parks and fields, in between houses and low buildings. It continued tugging and tugging, dragging Harry further and further from the only place that Harry had ever known and further into the crevice of the unknown.

Harry tired quickly as the night wore on, his body weak and malnourished, but he kept going, trusting in the tugging in his chest not to lead him astray. He had ran for what must have been hours, the moon's passage through the sky near complete now, hovering near the horizon, opposite of where the dark of the sky was lightening in shade. Harry was exhausted and felt that he night collapse soon, his body swaying dangerously even as his feet remained steadily pounding into the pavement. The tugging changed directions again, drawing him to an abandoned warehouse just outside of town. It was old, its unused state allowed for rust and moss and creepers to grow everywhere, lining the doors, the walls, the windows, and the roof, blanketing the two-story building in a layer of brown-red and green.

Harry clumsily squeezed through a gap he had found in the wall of the warehouse, the tug in his chest leading him up the stairs to the second floor to a spot near the far wall where there was a corner shielded behind a low, crumbling half wall that had never been fully built. The corner was bare of any moss or mould or insects and clean, albeit a bit dusty, but to Harry, it was perfect. He took out the pillowcases from his bag and laid them down on the floor to act as a form of flimsy protection between him and the cold stone. Lying down, Harry used his bag as a pillow and covered himself with the blanket and immediately dropped off to sleep.

He dreamt of darkness, a flash of blue-red and a heavy feeling of helplessness and resignation.

* * *

><p>Actually, I wanted to write more in this chapter, but then I realised how long it's gonna go and I'm already running out of steam so I cut it off.<p>

This chapter is meant to be a filler for the next chapter to give you more clues for you to figure out what is going on with Harry (and to act as a bridge as well).

Please remember that Harry is a five year old right now and no matter how magically powerful he is, his brain capacity is still limited and still developing. Also, he had been abused for the past five years and never exactly knew what love felt like. So keep that in mind when reading my fic.

For those who are reading this expecting the story to immediately jump to courting, you guys will have to wait a bit longer. It's gonna come soon, in a few chapters I promise, but definitely not in the next one. I want to do a bit of world building before I reach that stage so I apologise if you feel cheated.

I hope that you've liked this so far. If you want, you can drop me a message or a review if you want to tell me or point out anything to me. I'd gladly read your messages.

However, all flames will not be tolerated.

I hope that y'all will have a great day! Don't forget to eat properly and drink lots of water. Stay healthy my lovelies!


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